


Someone To Talk To

by Ass_Gardiann



Category: Black Mirror: Bandersnatch (2018)
Genre: Complete, i dont know its just a little idea ok dont @ me, pre-bandersnatch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-21 12:01:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17642402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ass_Gardiann/pseuds/Ass_Gardiann
Summary: The first time Stefan met Dr Haynes things weren't exactly smooth sailing. They weren't rickety either, but getting used to a therapist takes time and patience.





	Someone To Talk To

It was a cold day, as most where. The sun was just past its peak and the cool breeze of evening was starting to swindle through the streets, tousling the trees and swirling the leaves into dizzy circles as they kicked up into the air along the sidewalk. People walked to and fro as people did, a runner here, a businessman there, and yet the traffic was as light as it had ever been. That didn’t take away from the stench of fuel that hung in the air and the more immediate taste of tobacco that plagued the scene like a looming fog of toil.

“At this rate we're going to be bloody late.” Peter Butler muttered with indigence, hands set on the steering wheel, cigarette lit in one and a rather fashionable watch on the wrist of the other.  He blew a steady stream of smoke from his mouth as he drove, his eyes darting to his watch with a nervous build up that was already beginning to set his son on edge, “Are you sure it’s the next right?”

Stefan gave a small sigh, not the first he had let out through this trip, and he was certain it wouldn’t be the last either. His fingers were trailing a map book, a route marked in red by his father to a destination scribbled out and unknown. ‘A secret,’ his Dad had told him, ‘something to help, you know, with school’. Whatever that meant. Stefan knew his grades were dropping, but it wasn’t anything significant or bad. And middle-school wasn’t even nearing an education that actually mattered.

Besides. If it were to help with school, why had he been dragged from the premises after lunch? He was still in his uniform and everything, his bag having been hastily placed in the boot as they signed off on some papers and rushed out the door. His father had said he wouldn’t be returning to school that evening. It all seemed very counter-intuitive in his eyes.

“Yes.” Stefan replied, “If this is Hayes stree-“

“It is, it is.” His dad interrupted, the urgency still in his voice as he tapped the cigarette hastily and checked his watch once more. Stefan was used to the behavior by now. But that didn’t mean he had to enjoy it. He coughed as his father exhaled again, covering his mouth and rolling down the window a little more, the crank just a little too stiff in his hands.

“Roll that backup, we’ll be arriving soon.” His dad retorted, a snappy edge to his voice. Stefan wasn’t sure if the tone was on purpose, but he sunk a little further into his seat.

“I know.” His eyes were down, looking over the map book once more, following the signs. There was another left turn off, a sign, a name he didn’t recognize.

“Then roll the-“

“Dad, you missed the turn-off.” Stefan interrupted, slapping the book shut in his lap. Peter blinked, his eyes back on the street as he glanced out the review mirror and pulled a hard, fast, and most definitely illegal U-turn.

“Can you just tell me where we’re going?” Frustrated urgency was creeping into his voice and he turned to look at his Dad, but no answer was given. They drove in silence the rest of the way.

Stiff, awkward silence.

It didn’t take long however and by the time they pulled up outside what Stefan assumed to be the destination, his Dad had put out the cigarette and was adjusting his glasses with a knowing stare. Stefan blinked back, looking to the building and then back to his Dad, unsettled and unsure.

“The window, Stefan.” His Dad sighed, massaging his forehead. Stefan made a small ‘o’ before setting the map book on the floor of the car and winding up the window stiffly.

The breeze had picked up a little outside and Stefan wrapped his school blazer a little tighter around himself as he closed the car door and waited for his father, the man irritably checking his watch once again.

“Bollocks, we are late. Hope she won’t mind too much.” He sighed, his hand going to his son’s shoulder, too firm, too secure. Stefan couldn’t help but flinch under the weight as he had and would continue to do for years.

“She?” He knew the question was useless before he posed it. His dad pushed him along and they walked up the steps to a too professional, too uptight looking building. Concrete and square. Rigid. Exactly the kind of building he’d expect his father to want to enter, and that only furthered Stefan’s beliefs in the fact that this was the exact opposite of the place he wanted to be in.

Peter Butler pushed open the door and Stefan could feel his heart drop immediately.

The inside of the building was similar to the outside. Still cold, still stiff, but somehow more routine. More lived. More… wrong. People sat in rows of metal-framed seats, but never next to each other, and never in comfort. In fact, as Stefan looked around the room he was almost certain he couldn’t see a single smile on anyone’s face. The walls were a stark white and the floors where exactly the same. There was a looming smell of bleach and cleaning products, mixed with a distinct orange freshener. Citrus filled his nose and the white filled his eyes and Stefan involuntarily took a step closer to his father, whose hand was still firmly pressed on his shoulder.  

“Stefan Butler? Last call for Stefan Butler.”

A short woman with grey hair was standing at the entrance to a small hallway and Stefan could almost feel the collective silent groan that came over the room. Was it that they wanted their names called? Was it better than waiting?

“Come on,” Peter whispered, having bent down slightly before marching forward to greet the woman. Stefan couldn’t help but notice that his father was unable to make eye contact with the lady.

“Sorry, we’re late.” He apologized. The woman simply grunted and began walking down a stark, narrow corridor. Doors lined the walls, golden plaques with professional names etched onto them.

Stefan finally shrugged his father’s hand from his shoulder, falling back behind the trail, his footsteps echoing through the space. They stopped outside one of the many doors, closer to the back of the facility, and the elderly woman gave a swift knock before turning away and walking back down the hallway without so much as a smile.

Stefan looked to his Dad and then to the door. It seemed they were both suddenly as reluctant as each other to continue.

“Dr. R Haynes…” Stefan barely spoke the words as he narrowed his eyes at the plaque. What could a doctor do to help him with school? Was she a really well-educated tutor? Or was he sick? Now that he thought about it, the whole place did give off a hospital vibe. Was something wrong with him? Sure, he hadn’t been feeling great, but that was just… teenage stuff. Everyone felt that stuff.

Stefan was about to inquire further when the door swung open to reveal a kind-faced woman standing in the doorway, a small notebook in one hand and a bright smile on her face.

Stefan wasn’t sure if he should feel invited or weary. The way she held herself was so comfortable and her air was calm, if not a little formal. Everything about her seemed to invite someone to feel relaxed, but that in itself had him on edge. Why was he here? Who was she? He began to look back to his dad for any indication of an answer.

“You must be Stefan.” She greeted, her voice was a warm as he had expected to be and he snapped his attention back to her with a skeptical gaze, not yet accepting her presence or welcoming her tone. She didn’t seem to mind though as her own eyes followed up to meet his father’s and she held out a hand, “And you must be Peter Butler.”

“Dr. Haynes.” Peter took the offered hand with a firm, confident shake that Stefan couldn’t put out of his mind. His father was an interesting man, able to jump from a state of total control to lack of in less than a second. It was interesting to watch, to take in and understand, but it made for a pretty unhealthy living environment. Stefan was never sure which side of the bed his father would wake up on, or if who he waved goodbye to in the morning would be the same man to pick him up that afternoon.

“Why don’t you two come and take a seat?” She asked, stepping aside and gesturing into the room.

The room was small and enclosed. The walls, as with everywhere else in this building, where white, but they were also stained and more…. revolting. The room smelt of lavender and a small glass window allowed light to swell in and out as clouds covered the sun. There was no clock in this room, or at least not one visible to them, and there where three simple chairs pulled up in a small circle. They weren’t like the wire framed chairs from before. No, these chairs where wooden, new. It looked as if they didn’t belong to the facility at all, and the colourful cushions that donned them led Stefan to believe that Dr. Haynes had, in fact, brought the chairs herself, for whatever reason that may be.

Stefan didn’t sit immediately. Standing back as his Dad sat down first, his eyes flicking to the door with obvious uncertainty of his environment and situation. Did he want to be here? No. Did he know why he didn’t want to be here? Also no. But he didn’t exactly have the choice to leave. He was here of his father’s volition. Here instead of back at school studying math.

Here.

“Stefan? A seat? I mean, you can stand if you’re more comfortable that way, of course.” Dr Haynes spoke softly, and Stefan blinked, pulled from his thoughts. He hadn’t even realised he had phased out of the conversation, nor that he was still standing. His felt a rush of heat in his face and his hands began to palm together as he gave a quick nod and sat down, feeling the eyes upon him.

“I’m so sorry we were late Dr. Haynes. We got a little… lost.” Peter offered, giving her a curtly smile as he turned his attention away from Stefan. The shift brought with it a sense of relief through the young teenager. He had never been the most extroverted and he wasn’t particularly keen on being the main point of any conversation.

“Mr. Butler, I have had clients show up three minutes before the session was supposed to end. Five minutes after the start is nothing. You’re fine.” She assured him, her chair creaking slightly as she lent back, flipping open the notebook and taking a pen from behind her ear. Stefan hadn’t even noticed there had been a pen hiding there through all her hair, but the way she was already beginning to write unnerved him.

“C-clients?” he stammered after a moment, the word was soft and cracked, a hint of distress running through his tone. Little did he know, this would be one of the only words he uttered this session. His gaze flickering between Dr. Haynes and his father in confusion and he shuffled uncomfortably in the chair, suddenly wishing that he had stayed standing. Maybe then he would have found the willpower to leave.

“Yes, Stefan. Clients. You’re sick. Dr. Haynes is here to help.” There was a peaceful familiarity and softness in his dad’s tone, but Stefan still flinched at the words.

Sick? He didn’t feel sick. Not in the way one should, or in the way he was led to believe at least. This was just… teenage stuff, right? He had been told by his teachers, by the few acquaintances he had, that this was just the norm. Or… maybe they had a different norm? A different idea of what his norm was? He was overthinking again, he could feel it, the questions the hesitation. Was that not normal? Was he not normal?

“Stefan, do you know who I am? Or why you’re here?” Dr. Haynes interrupted his thoughts once more and Stefan flicked his eyes towards her in uncertainty, unable to stop the sinking feeling in his stomach nor able to find the words or motions to interact.

“I didn’t tell him, no,” Peter spoke up after a moment, placing his hands neatly on his knees as he looked at Stefan with a certain pleading in his eyes; a clear want to get his son to open up, to interact. A futile want and a futile attempt. Stefan’s skill to shut down was already coming to light and the teen stared at the floor, his skin crawling with regret.

He had trusted his Dad once more, and once more had been let down. Of course, therapy was not a letdown, really, not a betrayal in itself, but Stefan had yet to see that, yet to really understand what this all was. At that moment, all he knew was that his Dad was trying to fix him. Fix a problem he didn’t even know he had.  

“Well,” Dr. Haynes pursed her lips, closing her notebook and crossing one leg over the other as she lent forward a little, “My name is Dr. Haynes. I’m a therapist. Do you know what a therapist is?” She talked as if she were talking to a child, and in all rights, she was. Stefan was somewhat appreciative of the tone, there was no assumption of previous knowledge, no assumption of what should or shouldn’t be known. But he had decided on his stance, and he wasn’t keen on changing it so early in the game. After all, he had no real reason to trust this woman.

“He does,” Peter informed her after Stefan yet again refused to speak. Stefan could feel the embarrassment radiating off of his father, and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t bring him at least a little twinge of joy. If he was going to be uncomfortable, then why should he be uncomfortable alone?

“Alright…” She spoke slowly, clearing her throat, flicking open her notebook again. The sound of fast scribbles made Stefan’s body tense, his teeth starting to click against his nails. He didn’t know when he had started biting them, but he was here now, “Well, then you’ll know, Stefan, that you’re not sick.”

“Bu-“ Peter began to interrupt, but Dr. Haynes shot him a look and his mouth snapped shut.

“Not sick. Not necessarily. Your father says your having some troubles at school. All I’m here for is for you to talk through those troubles, ok?”

Stefan yet again didn’t reply. His head still down and his shoulders hunched, he glanced to the door. Silence filled the room for another awkward moment and Peter’s hand moved shakily through the air, settling down on Stefan’s shoulder gently with a soft squeeze. Stefan assumed it was supposed to be comforting, but it felt more like a warning than anything else.

“Stefan…” His dad tried, but the attempt only made things worse and Stefan could feel himself involuntarily shift away from his father, his head lifting ever so slightly, but his expression still as blank as ever.

“It’s ok.” Dr. Haynes assured them, holding her hands in the air, seemingly unphased by the lack of conversation in the room, and already starting to pick up on the cues as to why, “If you don’t want to talk, that’s ok. A lot of people are more comfortable to be in silence, especially people new to therapy.”

“But the whole point of this is so that he’ll have someone to talk to.”

“Yes.” Dr. Haynes agreed, “But you wouldn’t ask a child to run before it can crawl. Therapy isn’t easy for everyone Mr. Butler,” she turned her attention to Stefan again, who was finally looking at her, a little more focused than before, a little more attentive, “and everyone comes to their own at different rates. This time is for Stefan to use how he chooses.”

How he chooses. The words stuck with Stefan as he shuffled in his chair once more, stealing a glance at the watch on the back of his father’s wrist.

A silent beat passed. Dr. Haynes almost waiting for Peter to speak up once more, and Peter clearly searching for the right words to say without sounding offensive or controlling. In the end, he gave up, a small sigh of resign as his hands slid down his face.

“Mr. Butler, would it be ok with you if I have some alone time with Stefan?” She asked, straightening herself and twirling the pen in her hand. Her tone was no different from the one she used to address Stefan, though the knowledge that she was indeed a therapist did put things into perspective a little on that front.

“Oh.” Peter blinked. He looked around the room at the eyes that were now on him and hesitated only a moment before starting to stand, a stiff tension in his movements, “Well… I guess I’ll be outside.” He stated, hovering a moment longer in his reluctance before finally giving a rigid nod. He opened the door with a creak and stepped through, disappearing back into the hallway they had come.

Stefan didn’t notice the taut feeling leave his body, but it seemed Dr. Haynes did and as Stefan’s eyes settled back onto her, it became apparent that she too was more relaxed, more comfortable with his Dad gone from the room.

“Now. Let me tell you about my day.” Dr. Haynes stood up, moving the third chair from the circle before coming back to sit down a little more casually in front of Stefan. The words caught him off guard at first, and his eyes shot up to meet hers, clouded with weary confusion.

But then she did. She talked about her day. From waking up in the morning, deciding what to wear, she talked about the way her roommate had left off milk in the fridge and how she had dropped a piece of toast directly onto the floor. The ride to work, the greeting of the old lady at the front desk (she had whispered the part about her dislike for her), and had even gone as far to pull out the novel she had been reading in her breaks, showing him the front cover in a quick summary of words.

Stefan didn’t listen the entire time. He zoned in and out uncontrollably, catching onto words and sentences and fixating on small details until he realised, he had fallen so far behind that she was talking about lunch and not the arrival at work at all. She didn’t seem to mind though, instead simply pausing every now and again, repeating details she thought he had missed.

In a way it was nice. Comforting. Weird. Stefan wasn’t sure exactly how to feel about it, but when his father had left the room, he hadn’t been sure what to expect at all. He certainly hadn’t expected that. His hand brushed through the pages of a book he didn’t remember receiving and he blinked down to the title, placing it as the one Dr. Haynes had spoken of. There was a dog-eared page halfway through, and remnants of character names and traits hung in his mind.

This time he didn’t realise the room had fallen silent as he stared at the cover.

“Bandersnatch…” he whispered, his hands trailing over the glossy surface. He looked back up to Dr. Haynes who was still offering him a bright smile, though this time it reached her eyes. He looked away quickly, back to the cover before holding it out to her in offering, “Here.” He mumbled, the word hardly making any audible sense.

“Thank you.” She accepted the book carefully, her hand brushing lightly against his. It was soft, delicate, warm. Like the touch of a friend and Stefan began to wonder if maybe Dr. Haynes wasn’t half bad after all. She looked down at her notebook with a small sigh.

“Well, Stefan. That’s our time for today. Here,” she flicked through a few pages, scribbling down something before tearing it out, offering the page to him. He took the paper hesitantly, the page crinkling in his hands. 20541. In one swift movement, he folded it up, tucking it away in the breast pocket of his blazer.

“If you need anything. Anytime. Just call.” Dr. Haynes continued, standing up from her chair and closing the notebook, tucking it under her arm and placing the pen back behind her ear. “We should probably get you back to your father now, shouldn’t we?”

Stefan gave a small nod, a little reluctant to return. He hated to admit it, but whatever… this was. He hadn’t hated it. Not really. Dr. Haynes was nice and comforting and she respected his boundaries in a way he hadn’t had them respected for a long time.

Together they left to the door. His father was standing, leaning against the wall, a cigarette lit in his hands. Stefan hated the smell of the smoke, and the look of concern his Dad was giving him was just the cherry on top of the entire experience.

“How did it go?” Peter asked, looking between the pair, though the question was directed at Stefan. The tension returned as he spoke, not that Peter Butler noticed it at all.

Stefan opened his mouth to answer the question, but Dr. Haynes stepped in before he had the chance, “Is this time next week still good for you, Mr. Butler?” She asked, her voice a little curter than it had been in the office space.

“I… yes. That’s all good if that-“

“Good. I’ll be seeing you then.” She turned back to Stefan, her voice a little softer, a little more genuine, “And Stefan? It was nice to meet you. I’m excited to get to know you more.” Stefan stared back at her, a little bemused, but a lot more relaxed. He gave a small nod and an attempt at a weak smile. He’d never learn how much that smile meant to Dr. Haynes.

And like that the comfort was over. Dr. Haynes turned back into her office. Peter’s hand found its way back onto Stefan’s shoulder, grip too firm, too controlling. Stefan shrunk underneath the touch as they made their way silently back down the echoing hall.

**Author's Note:**

> Not my longest but it did take me a while to write lmao. Past fics are hard but I really wanted to explore the start of Stefan and Dr Haynes relationship in more detail cause I feel that they would have a lot of history.  
> Also im no psychologist idk whats procedure im guessing my way through life


End file.
